Coolness And Absence Of Heat And Haste

I Read Your Piece On Plato. Holmes, When You Strike At A King, You Must Kill Him.

There Are People Who Have An Appetite For Grief; Pleasure Is Not Strong Enough And They Crave Pain. They Have Mithridatic Stomachs Which Must Be Fed On Poisoned Bread, Natures So Doomed That No Prosperity Can Sooth Their Ragged And Dishevelled Desolation.

Let It Suffice That In The Light Of These Two Facts, Namely, That The Mind Is One, And That Nature Is Its Correlative, History Isto Be Read And Written.

Our Globe Discovers Its Bidden Virtues, Not Only In Heroes And Arch-angels, But In Gossips And Nurses.

Come, See The North-wind's Masonry, Out Of An Unseen Quarry Evermore Furnished With Tile, The Fierce Artificer Curves His White Bastions With Projected Roof Round Every Windward Stake, Or Tree, Or Door. Speeding, The Myriad-handed, His Wild Work So Fanciful, So Savage, Naught Cares He For Number Or Proportion.